


Lost

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Falling In Love, M/M, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: After being injured while chasing a criminal, Sherlock has lost his mind. Literally. He has no idea of what he did or why or where he was with whom.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter One

Mycroft followed his younger sibling wherever he stumbled or swayed along. He followed him because he had to. He had always followed him and protected him. But since Sherlock had lost his mind, had lost his entire fine abilities, the bond between them had grown so much stronger.  
Today Sherlock’s body was just a shell for his soul. By now it really was just transport. And Mycroft took care of his well-being; always hoping his mind would return into his body.  
For now, it was lost inside his mind-palace. At last Mycroft assumed so because he couldn’t be quite sure.

***

Sherlock sat outside on a lounge-chair at his brother’s place. The sun shone brightly and he held his face up into the warmth. A servant came outside and brought him tea. He looked at her and she smiled at him. He smiled back.  
“It’s such a shame; but as wicked as it sounds, this version of him is much better than his old self.” The thought just came and at once she felt bad and placed the tea and cake on the table in front of him. She looked at him for a few seconds but he quietly drank his tea. She walked back inside and almost bumped into Mycroft.  
“Sir, I am so sorry!” She hated it when he hid in the almost dark. He thinly smiled at her.  
“Nothing happened, Eva. And you are right somehow. And yes, it is wicked having these thoughts. But they are understandable, quite so.” She blushed and lowered her head. He dismissed her and joined his brother.  
Sherlock looked up when he sat down but didn’t say anything.  
“We will be having a visitor, Sherlock.” Mycroft told him. Sherlock didn’t react but kept eating.  
“Don’t you want to know who it is?” Mycroft asked. Sherlock just shrugged.  
“It’s Greg. Do you remember Greg?” Only now Sherlock looked at his brother. A frown appeared above his nose.  
“Gavin?” He asked and it made Mycroft smile.  
“Yes, exactly. The Inspector from Scotland Yard. I invited him over for your birthday, Sherlock.”  
“OK.” He said no more. Mycroft wondered if he knew who Greg was and what birthday meant. He thought back when Sherlock had been deducing and experimenting. He had helped Greg solving crimes and they had been great together. And Sherlock had never cared about his birthday. Not really. But he was secretly pleased when Mycroft had given him a present.  
Then the awful incident happened when Sherlock got shot and fell into the Thames during the winter. The ice was too thin and he crashed through. He had almost drowned. They got him out but the damage was done.  
They had brought him back from a babbling idiot. After months of therapy he was back on his legs and able to speak. But he was just functioning. He needed to be told what to do.  
Sometimes Mycroft cried at night alone in his bed.


	2. Chapter Two

Greg arrived just in time and he had even brought a present for Sherlock. He tried to be cheerful for him but Mycroft saw the grief in his eyes and he hated it.  
Sherlock stood beside his brother and looked at the man who had arrived. This was nice because it was a change in his daily routine.  
Greg looked at him and grinned his boyish smile. It warmed Mycroft’s heart.  
“Happy birthday, Sherlock!” He carefully hugged him and finally ruffled his hair a bit. Sherlock didn’t hug him back but didn’t turn away either. Greg looked over to Mycroft because he was clueless.  
“Won’t you offer a piece of cake to your visitor, Sherlock?” Mycroft carefully suggested and Sherlock looked at him and slowly nodded.  
“Outside with tea.” He looked at Greg then and pointed the direction. Then he turned around and walked away clearly expecting everyone to follow.  
Greg swallowed and only then greeted Mycroft.  
“Mycroft, how are you doing? And please don’t lie to me.” Mycroft shook his head.  
“I had better days. But he is well, his body works perfectly fine. Only his brain doesn’t. I have to watch him all the time. He sometimes just walks and walks without a place to go to and we need to search him for hours.”  
“Is there any chance?” Greg asked while they followed Sherlock outside.  
“The doctors aren’t very optimistic.” Mycroft answered and Greg sighed.  
Outside Sherlock tried to pour tea into the cups and almost made it. His hands were shaking a bit but they let him. Then he placed cake on plates. It was a mess but they didn’t mind because Sherlock was happy, he was busy and seemed to like his fingers coated in chocolate cake.  
“Thank you.” Greg said and started to devour the cake.  
“Sherlock helped baking it.” Mycroft said to make Sherlock feel good.  
“Really?” Greg asked and Sherlock proudly nodded.  
“Yes, I melted the chocolate and prepared the dough.”  
“You did a perfect job. This is fantastic.” Greg praised and Sherlock looked happy. Inside Greg’s heart was torn apart but he didn’t show. He knew Mycroft could read him but Sherlock couldn’t anymore. He would survive this day. His visit was almost as much for Mycroft as it was for Sherlock.

After they were done Greg picked up his backpack.  
“I brought you a present, Sherlock.” He pulled out a wrapped parcel and held it up for him. Sherlock looked at it and then at Mycroft.  
“A present? For me?” He wondered but finally reached out and placed it on his lap. Very carefully he opened the fancy and colourful paper. Inside sat a jigsaw puzzle of several sights of London. Sherlock stared at the box and turned it around once. Then he looked at Greg pressing it against his chest.  
“A puzzle. I can put the pieces together and have a beautiful picture. Thank you.”  
“I am glad you like it, Sherlock.” Sherlock didn’t let go of the box when Mycroft wanted to see it. Both men smiled.

***

After dinner Sherlock was exhausted and went to bed. The puzzle was with him and sat on his nightstand. Downstairs Greg and Mycroft sat in the library having a drink.  
“Thank you for being here, Gregory. You made the day for him.” Greg blushed a bit.  
“It was good to see him again. And you. I am happy to see you again, too.” Mycroft looked at him.  
“I missed you, too.” Then he just topped up their tumblers and they sipped the expensive malt. Suddenly Greg looked at his watch.  
“Damn, I have to run or I will miss the last train!” Mycroft stood and took his wrist.  
“Please stay.” They stared into each other’s eyes and Greg swallowed. The long fingers around his wrist made his pulse beat faster.  
“But I have nothing to change into …” He at least tried to stop the inevitable from happening.  
“Please!” Mycroft quietly snorted. He kept holding Greg and tried to pull him closer. Greg followed the pull. He was able to feel Mycroft’s body heat. The fabric of his suit touched some skin and it was glorious. And then he felt his cock against his thigh. He swallowed again and harder.  
“Oh …” Mycroft was hard and aroused because of him. Because of him? A tiny voice laughed inside his head and wondered what he was thinking.  
“Stop tormenting yourself, Gregory. I know you want it. I want it. Let’s have it.” Mycroft whispered.  
“But …” Greg intervened.  
“Please, Greg. I need you. I need you so much.” Mycroft begged and it made Greg dizzy. He didn’t hold back anymore. Instead he closed the distance completely and slung his muscular arms around Mycroft’s thin frame.  
“God, this is just wonderful …” He whispered and turned his head to kiss him on the jaw. Mycroft sighed.  
“It is, isn’t it?” He closed his eyes and enjoyed Greg’s touches and kisses without so much reciprocating.  
Greg kept kissing him for a while and became very aroused. When Mycroft reached down to touch his prick he groaned and bit his lips.  
“Upstairs.” Mycroft said taking his hand. He pulled him over the aisles of the manor and up into his bedroom. Greg had no eyes for the beautifully furnished room. He just wanted to get his hands on Mycroft.  
“God, I need to touch you …” Greg roughly said and pulled the jacket over his shoulders. It fell on the hardwood and Mycroft looked a bit off. The waistcoat followed suit. When Greg reached up to open his dress-shirt Mycroft got out of his shoes and socks just by using his toes. Greg grinned staring at the pale skin he exposed.  
“Gregory, watch my cufflinks, please?” And Greg very carefully took them off and placed them on the nightstand. Soon he had Mycroft only in his dress-trousers.  
“God, you look amazing!” Mycroft blushed and looked away. Greg started to undress very quickly and threw all his clothes on top of Mycroft’s. Soon he was stark naked and very, very hard. He reached out for Mycroft’s zip and carefully opened it. The trousers fell down and both men were naked now.

Greg pushed Mycroft and they fell on the large four-poster. Greg was on top and kissed and stroked him. Mycroft closed his eyes and moaned. He completely relaxed and let Greg take over; let him do what he wanted.  
“Lube?” Greg asked and Mycroft turned his delicate wrist into the direction of the nightstand. Greg retrieved it and also looked for condoms.  
“They are not necessary. I am clean. We both are regularly checked. Just go on.” Greg looked at him.  
“You are very demanding for someone in your position.” Mycroft smugly smiled.  
“It’s called topping from the bottom or so I have heard.” Greg grinned.  
“Whatever. Pull up your legs now.” He ordered and Mycroft just did it. Greg spread his thighs and lifted his behind up on his thighs. Now Mycroft looked surprised.  
Greg took his time preparing Mycroft who was as tight as a virgin. And even though Mycroft kept begging he wouldn’t rush anything. He only stopped when he had three fingers up his arse and a keen body beneath him.  
He used the lube and slicked up his cock. And then he lined up staring into Mycroft’s dark grey eyes.  
“Tell me if you need me to stop, love.” Mycroft looked out of hooded eyes.  
“Never stop.” And Greg pushed.

***

The next morning Sherlock finished the puzzle during the early hours of the day and proudly looked at it. It sat on the hardwood in his room. He liked it; it was a beautiful sight.   
He didn’t remember that he had lived there, had run through the streets of London chasing criminals.  
He looked outside and found it was still very early. He decided to see the horses. He knew he was allowed to do so and Mycroft had shown him where to go and how to open the stable.  
He walked right downstairs and out of the manor. No one was up yet except for the kitchen staff that didn’t see him leaving. He trotted over the way covered with pebbles and also passed a large patch of green. He reached the stables in only his pyjamas and pulled the door open.  
“Hello, my lovelies.” He purred low-voiced and the horses answered him. He chose one and jumped on the back. He never used a saddle and such. The riding was one thing that naturally came back to him. He moved the horse over the premises and enjoyed the early morning.  
He wondered if Gavin - Gavin? - was still here. He had been nice and he had brought him a puzzle. Perhaps he would join them for breakfast?

He rode for about two hours and then brought the horse back. He was sweaty and a bit dirty by now and returned to his room. He passed by Mycroft’s room and heard him laugh. He also heard yesterday’s visitor. He was happy about the fact that he was still here. He didn’t wonder at all why he was in Mycroft’s bedroom.  
Sherlock showered and dressed for the day. This was daily routine by now and he could manage. He sometimes forgot to get dressed when leaving the house but normally he was stopped just in time. He walked downstairs and suddenly stumbled over the stair’s edge. He tried to grab something to hold on to but there was nothing. He fell forward and rolled over twice when falling down the stairs. His head hit the wooden stairs and finally the floor. He groaned loudly. It had hurt.  
Upstairs a door was opened and his brother called out for him.  
“Sherlock? Where are you?” Sherlock groaned again and both Mycroft and Greg dashed downstairs and knelt by his side.  
“What happened?” Mycroft asked and carefully touched his head where bruises already formed. There was also a laceration and Mycroft's fingers were bloody.  
“Go and get the first-aid kit. I stay with him.” Greg told Mycroft who stood and left to retrieve the kit. He also called the local doctor who had examined Sherlock all the time they were staying here. But the assistant told him he wasn’t in. Instead she would send his fill-in for the time being; a Dr John Watson whom she deemed capable enough to deal with the Holmes. Or so she said.  
In the meantime, Greg had looked after Sherlock and placed a cool-pack on his head. Sherlock looked up at him.  
“I have finished the puzzle.” He said.  
“That’s great. When did you do it?” Greg answered.  
“This morning and very early. I needed to finish it.” Greg smiled.  
“Then I need to bring you another puzzle, don’t I?” He asked smiling.  
“You always bring me puzzles.” Sherlock said. Greg could just stare at him.  
“What?” He asked all baffled. Sherlock just kept looking at him. Then Mycroft was back.  
“The doctor is on his way. He should be here any minute.” Then he looked at Greg.  
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He looked at Sherlock and then back at Greg. A stupid smile was on Greg’s face.  
“Sherlock just said I always bring him puzzles.” Now Mycroft smiled, too.

***

A car approached and Mycroft walked over to open the door. A Jeep was parked directly by the stairs and a short but rather good-looking man with a cane and a doctor’s bag appeared. He looked up and Mycroft straightened his tall body.  
“You must be Dr Watson?” He held out his hand and John slowly climbed up the stairs and shook it.  
“Yes, John Watson. You are Mr Holmes?” Mycroft nodded.  
“Yes, Mycroft Holmes. My brother Sherlock fell down the stairs. Please come inside and have a look at him.”  
“Does he talk?” John asked limping inside as fast as he could.  
“Yes, he does.” John knelt by Sherlock’s side and Greg moved a bit back. Now Sherlock looked up at Dr Watson.  
“Who are you?” He asked curiously. A new face. Not boring. Boring?  
“I am a doctor and my name is John.” Dr Watson smiled gently at his patient.  
“My name is Sherlock. I fell down.” He lifted his hand and pointed at the stairs and then at his head.  
“So I have been told. Where does it hurt? Do you feel sick or dizzy?” John asked.  
“My head hurts here.” He pointed at the side where the cool-pack sat.  
“I am not feeling sick.” He shook his head.  
“Very good. I will have a look now. If it hurts, just tell me. Can you do that?” John asked calmly and gently moved the hair away.  
“I am not stupid, you know?” Both Mycroft and Greg just stared at Sherlock. John only raised a brow.  
“I never said so, didn’t I?” And he smiled again.  
“You stated the obvious.” Sherlock said and both Mycroft and Greg kept staring and listening.  
“The most important thing is that you don’t hurt and I can examine you safely and without any pain. So, if I need to do stupid things, I do them.” John shrugged and Sherlock gave him a small smile.  
John very gently attached a pin to his hair to hold it back. Then he cleaned the wound and looked at it closely.  
“Very good. You don’t need stitches. I assume you will be having a headache for a bit but it shouldn’t be too bad. I’ll leave you some pills. Keep cooling the bruises, please?” John slowly stood and his bones cracked. Sherlock looked up. Then he tilted his head. He looked at his brother as if looking for confirmation but then his eyes returned to John.  
“It was my birthday yesterday. Would you like a piece of cake?” He slowly stood and kept his eyes fixed on the smallish doctor.  
Dr John Watson was very surprised. He had been briefed a bit by his colleague’s assistant and he knew of Sherlock’s past. He somehow pitied this former famous and now rather helpless man.  
“That’s really very kind but I don’t want to disturb your routine.” Plus, it was only morning and he really shouldn’t have cake for breakfast. Sherlock looked at him.  
“You don’t. I helped making it.” By now Sherlock was standing very close to Dr Watson and almost shoved him where he wanted him to be.  
Greg now looked at Mycroft and had raised his brows. Mycroft had a smile on his face. They followed them outside and John let himself be ushered onto the terrace. Sherlock hurried to get cake and tea and coffee. He even carried everything outside alone because he wanted to be back to John Watson. Mycroft and Greg had left the chair close to John free and Sherlock plonked into it. He handed over a plate with cake for him and John took it.  
“This was almost him, wasn’t it?” Greg whispered close to Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft’s palm rested on his thigh but stayed hidden under the table.  
“Yes, it came as such a surprise. Perhaps there still is a chance.” He quietly sighed.

John had heard what had been spoken but was fully concentrated on his patient. Sherlock ate and talked to him at the same time but John didn’t mind. This was interesting. So far, he had only had patients with a cough or smaller injuries due to the work on the fields or riding. But this was interesting. Perhaps he was suffering from some post-traumatic syndrome? John would search online for information.  
When Sherlock took a break because he drank some tea, John took the opportunity to talk to him.  
“God, I am so sorry, Mr Holmes. You told me it was your birthday and you even invited me for tea. And I never even wished you a happy birthday. So here it comes: A very happy birthday to you.” A big smile was on John’s face and Sherlock just stared at him as if he expected something of him.  
“Greg hugged me and gave me a present.” Sherlock suddenly said and John laughed.  
“Well, I can’t possibly hug you because we have just met each other. And I didn’t know it was your birthday, so I wasn’t able to bring something. I am sorry.” He finished his cake.  
“You can bring something later. You will be back later, won’t you?” Sherlock asked looking a bit scared.  
“Sherlock, please. Don’t be impolite to Dr Watson.” At once he shrunk a bit after Mycroft had spoken.  
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be impolite.” He spoke quietly.  
“You weren’t impolite. I want to have a look at you again anyway. But I would like to see you in my surgery tomorrow.” He also looked at Mycroft for confirmation.  
“I can take him over, it’s no problem.” Sherlock quickly looked at his brother.  
“OK.” John finished his tea, too, and finally stood.  
“Thank you very much for the tea and the cake. It tasted wonderful.” They shook hands and Sherlock stayed put in his chair when Mycroft took him to the door. But he waved a bit shyly.  
“What happened to him?” John asked Mycroft at the door.  
“You haven’t read his file?” He asked and John shook his head.  
“No, there was no time. My assistant just let me know the basics and I thought I’d better hurry.”  
“Just read the file and ask your questions tomorrow. I will answer them all. But I can tell you that much; today was something I haven’t witnessed for a very long time.”  
“Well, see you tomorrow then. I look forward to seeing him again.” Mycroft smiled.  
“Good-bye, Dr Watson.” John nodded.  
“Good-bye, Mr Holmes.” Mycroft watched him drive off the premises and closed the door. He joined Greg and his brother back outside and saw that Sherlock’s eyes were drooping by now.  
“You are exhausted, brother-dear. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest a bit? We’ll wake you up later.” Sherlock slowly stood.  
“Yes, I am very tired. I’ll go to bed.” He turned away and slowly left. Greg looked at Mycroft.  
“This was amazing, wasn’t it?” He asked. Mycroft nodded.  
“Absolutely. Maybe there is some hope. Dr Watson did something. Whatever it was.” He looked thoughtful.  
“We did something, too, didn’t we? Something very nice and beautiful. And I would like to repeat it with you.” Greg suddenly said standing up and reaching out for Mycroft. Said one blushed a dark shade of red.  
“I very much hoped so. I didn’t know if I …” He slowly shook his head.  
“You didn’t know what?” Greg demanded to know and took his hand pulling him close.  
“If I was good enough …” Mycroft whispered.  
“Oh, stupid you!” Greg just said and kissed and hugged him tenderly.

***

John rode back into the village and parked in front of the surgery. He asked his assistant to get Sherlock’s file and retreated into the office because there weren’t any patients waiting. And he started to read.  
He was only interrupted once because a small child had fallen off his bike and needed to get his knee disinfected and bandaged. He dismissed him with a lolly and tender words and even repaired his bike.  
“Oh, you are a saint, Dr Watson. Thank you so much!” The mother said and smiled thankfully.  
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs Brix. Just watch his skin for a bit but he should be fine. See you!” She left and he returned to his studies. There were also newspaper clips and some sites on the internet; for example, a page being called “The Science of Deduction”. John raised a brow and got his laptop. He got lost in the midst of too many sorts of tobacco ashes.  
This man had been a genius, if all this was true. He also found out who the second man had been. He clearly was that DI Lestrade from Scotland Yard.  
What happened to Sherlock Holmes had been truly a misfortune. But perhaps there was something he could do. For sure he would return after their visit scheduled for tomorrow. He had liked him and Sherlock seemed to return the feeling.


	3. Chapter Three

Sherlock had slept until dinner and only woke because Mycroft entered his room.  
“You must be hungry, Sherlock. You only ate cake this morning. Please join us for dinner?” Sherlock slowly sat up and yawned.  
“I am hungry. Is Gavin still here?” Mycroft blushed a little bit. Earlier this day he had called him Gavin, too. Greg had almost lost it; he was laughing so hard.  
“Yes, he is. Why? Don’t you like him being here?” Their eyes met.  
“You like him being here.” Sherlock said.  
“Yes, I do.” Mycroft admitted. Sherlock shrugged.  
“Then it’s fine. Perhaps he will make you happy again.” Sherlock disappeared into his bath. Mycroft stared at his retreating form and sighed. So, he had noticed how bad he had felt during the last months following Sherlock’s recovery.  
They met for dinner and Greg had agreed to stay for the weekend. Sherlock smiled.  
“That’s nice.” He said quietly picking through his food.  
“I am glad you don’t think me a nuisance, Sherlock.” Greg said and it made Sherlock look up.  
“Why would I think so? You are a very nice person.” Mycroft smiled, too.  
“And so is Dr Watson.” He suddenly added. Both Mycroft and Greg looked at him.  
“What makes you think that? You don’t really know him and have only met him yesterday.” Greg said.  
“That’s right. But it feels like it. I mean I think he is a nice and friendly person. I look forward to tomorrow.” Mycroft already planned something, so much Greg was able to see.  
“I also think he has a past. He is not only a doctor.” Greg looked at him sharply.  
“What makes you think that?” He asked and Sherlock carefully shrugged.  
“I am not sure. It’s just a feeling. There is something.” He slowly shook his head.  
After dinner they sat outside for a while and Sherlock had a small smile on his lips while watching Greg and his brother. But he also looked forward to meeting John again.

***

John made sure that his schedule wasn’t stuffed the next day. He even told his assistant to make people wait unless it wasn’t an emergency. He very much wanted to meet Sherlock Holmes again. He was fascinated and even a bit excited.  
He had also borrowed a small baking tin from his landlady and made him a late birthday-cake with loads of chocolate. And since he had read about him and what he did before he rummaged through the boxes in the basement having written rubbish on top. He found an old microscope and cleaned it. It was fully functional and he wrapped it up together with a book about plants and flowers.

He read his file again until he heard a car drive up in front of the surgery. He straightened up and hid the folder. His assistant brought Sherlock Holmes and his brother inside. Sherlock expectantly looked at him.  
“Good morning, Mr Holmes and Mr Holmes.” They shook hands.  
“Good morning, Dr Watson. I will leave my little brother with you. Just call me when you are ready. I will pick him up again.” John nodded.  
“Very well. See you later.” Dr Watson politely smiled and Mycroft just smiled shaking his head at being thrown out.  
“That was quick.” Greg said when Mycroft climbed back into the car.  
“It seems that he wanted to be alone with him.” They snickered and rode off.

***

Sherlock and John looked into each other’s eyes but neither said anything. John spoke up at first.  
“I made something for you.” Sherlock expectantly looked at his hands but they were empty.  
“What is it?” Sherlock asked looking around after having asked.  
“I’ll go and get it. Hold on.” John hurried to get the cake and the present that sat in a box now and was wrapped up in crumpled paper. At first, he placed the cake on the coffee-table.  
“This is for later. We could have tea, if you like?” Sherlock already smiled. And then there was the box.  
“And this is my birthday-present for you. Again, happy late birthday, Sherlock.” He held it up and slowly Sherlock took it.  
“Thank you.” He quietly said. He placed it carefully on the table and started to peel off the paper. It got folded and ended up in his pocket, too. John raised a brow but didn’t comment. Sherlock opened the box and retrieved the microscope. Sherlock just stared at it for minutes and John didn’t interrupt him.  
“It’s a microscope. You can enlarge things beneath it and examine them.” Sherlock sounded thoughtful. Then he picked up the book.  
“This is just wonderful. I don’t know what to say or how to thank you properly.” John shrugged.  
“Just use it. And if you need any help, just call me. I’ll come along and help with your studies.” Sherlock looked happy, extremely so. He pressed the book to his chest and kept looking at the microscope.  
John cut the cake and handed over a plate.  
“Here, have some. No one will take away your things.”  
“You baked this yourself, didn’t you?” John blushed a bit.  
“Yes, I did. It doesn’t look very professional, does it?” Sherlock shrugged and had a mouthful.  
“But it’s very tasty.” He swallowed and inhaled the next piece already.  
“Would you like some tea?” John asked him.  
“Milk, two sugars, please.” Sherlock answered and then looked up at him a bit confused.  
“What’s wrong, Sherlock?” But he just shook his head.  
“Nothing.” He sounded very, very thoughtful.  
John prepared tea for Sherlock and himself and brought two mugs back in. Sherlock looked at his mug.  
“You are an army-doctor.” John was fairly surprised.  
“Well, yes, it’s my favourite mug with the RAMC sign on it. How do you know that?”  
“I don’t know why I know some things and others not. It’s frustrating sometimes.”  
“I do understand. When I woke up after I got shot at, I couldn’t remember a thing. Therapy brought back most of it but it was a hard way.”  
“Why do you limp when you got shot into your shoulder?” Sherlock suddenly asked.  
“How do you know I was shot in the shoulder?” Sherlock shrugged.  
“It’s true though. The limp I don’t know about. Perhaps I fell down or something.”  
“No, it’s completely psychosomatic.” Sherlock finished his cake.  
“My therapist says …” But Sherlock interrupted him.  
“She is stupid and wrong. You are bored with only being a doctor. You miss the action of war.” Suddenly he bit his lips.  
“I am very sorry. I am invading your privacy, Dr Watson. Please forgive me.” But John shook his head at once.  
“No, it’s all fine. Just keep going. It will be good for you. I am not angry or annoyed or anything. Please don’t worry. Here, have some more.” He poured tea and Sherlock held up his plate for more cake, too.  
When they had finished Sherlock leant back in his chair and looked at John.  
“I like this. You are nice. But you will leave eventually. Then I will be all alone and by myself again.” He sounded sad.  
“I will fill in for my friend for two more weeks. And afterwards I could stay around here somewhere, if you like? You see, I would like to meet you afterwards, too.” John carefully worded his wish and it made Sherlock smile.  
“Why?” He just asked very straightforward.  
“Because I want to help you.” John just answered and it was enough for Sherlock. John meant something else but didn’t dare saying so.  
“Oh … Never mind.” Sherlock suddenly said unexpectedly and sounded a bit disappointed.  
“What is it? What did you want to ask but didn’t?” Sherlock looked at John gnawing on his full lips. John swallowed and tried to think of the ice-bucket-challenge.  
“I wondered if you could help me collecting plants and such for my new microscope. But as an army-doctor you surely have different experiences.” John smiled. This man was endearing.  
“I did and still do my fair share of experiments. I really would like to help you. We can set up everything at your home. I am sure your brother won’t deny you a place for your work.” Sherlock looked happy.  
“When will you come and help?” He just asked.  
“Well, I still have to take care of the surgery. But I could come over after work or on Saturday?”  
“How many days?” Sherlock clearly had no concept of weekdays.  
“It’s the day after tomorrow. You could think of a place until then and how you want to have it made up for your work.” Sherlock beamed.  
“That’s great. I look forward to that. Thank you so much.” John was happy that Sherlock was happy.  
“You are welcome, Sherlock. Now I would like to have a look at your head again. Are you still hurting?” Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, only when I accidentally touch it under the shower. I am all fine.” John already stood and came up to him.  
“Let me have a look anyway, please?” He waited for Sherlock’s OK and just stood there.  
“Of course. You are my doctor. You need to check on me.” And he even turned his head.  
“Thank you.” Gently John moved his hair out of the way and looked at both the bruises and the wound. It looked all fine and he replaced the band-aid.  
“So?” Sherlock asked trying to look at John which made him actually turn his eyes into the funniest way. John smiled.  
“Everything is perfect. You are just a little bit coloured but there won’t be a scar or anything left.”  
“Hm.” Sherlock said.  
“Hm? You don’t want a scar, do you?” John asked looking at him curiously.  
“It’s just transport.” He said so very slowly and very quietly. Then he once shook his head and looked up at John again.  
“When is your lunch-break?” John shrugged and looked at his watch.  
“Whenever I want it to be. Why? Do you have plans for us?” Sherlock seriously nodded.  
“I would like to take you out for lunch into the local pub. Mycroft once took me there and I liked it a lot. So?” John was excited.  
“I’d very much like that. Thanks for inviting me. I’ll just get rid of my doctor’s coat and be right back.” Sherlock’s eyes followed him when he left the room. He patiently waited for him to come back and John really hurried.  
Sherlock still clung to his present and John quietly laughed.  
“Your present is safe in here. You can leave it behind. No one will steal it.” Sherlock took some minutes to finally let go and had a last look over his shoulder when John closed the door.  
“Please lock the door, Doctor John.” John did lock the door to calm him down a bit.  
“You can call me John. Just John. I am calling you Sherlock, right?” Sherlock looked at him.  
“Yes, since I am not a doctor. Though I could be, Mycroft says so.”  
“What kind of doctor?” John asked.  
“I don’t know.” Sherlock shrugged.  
“Perhaps we will find out.” John smiled up at him and Sherlock returned it.  
“It’s not far. You don’t need to get the car.” John was holding the keys already.  
“Oh, OK. I thought it might be better for you.” He held his eyes.  
“I just bumped my head, John. Let’s walk.” He offered his arm which was such a cute gesture. And John wasn’t able to deny him and took it. He was sure they must look a bit weird together but he didn’t mind. Sherlock being happy was all that mattered.

They entered the pub together and John got shoved on a bench. Sherlock walked up and ordered something. John wondered what he would get but Sherlock returned with two large glasses filled with orange-juice.  
“I also ordered fish and chips.” He said looking at John.  
“God, I haven’t had fish and chips in ages.” John sipped his juice and so did Sherlock.  
“I look forward to setting up my lab. But I also need a fridge.” He sounded thoughtful and it made John look up.  
“Why do you need a fridge?” He asked and Sherlock looked a bit dreamily.  
“I am not sure. It just popped up in my head.” John was quite optimistic about Sherlock’s healing process. He wished he could spend more time with him. Perhaps he should call his brother. Well, he had to call him anyway regarding the lab.  
“Do you have a computer, Sherlock?” John asked after lunch. Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, I don’t. Why?”  
“You could put your results into it and write about it?” But he shook his head.  
“No, I normally write my results into my notebook …” Suddenly he looked at John.  
“It just popped up, too, didn’t it?” Both men grinned.  
Soon after having finished lunch they returned to the surgery where John helped Sherlock putting his presents back into the box to return them safely. Then he called his brother to have him picked up. Sherlock clung to the box and looked at John.  
“I look forward to the weekend, John. I really do.” John smiled.  
“Me, too.” It was just a driver who picked up Sherlock so John decided to call Mycroft Holmes right away.  
“Dr Watson, what happened?” John cleared his throat.  
“Nothing whatsoever, Mr Holmes. I just wanted to call ahead because of the weekend.” Then he told him about his present and then there was silence on the line. John closed his eyes. Had he been too brave?  
“This sounds great, Dr Watson. Sherlock will be so excited and happy. I still have his old notebooks. Perhaps they can be of help?”  
“I do think so. He remembers loads of stuff. We have to gently push him into the right direction.” John said.  
“Well, just don’t push too hard or he will burn the lab down. Again.” Mycroft sighed.  
“What?” John said.  
“Listen, Dr Watson. Come over shortly before noon. Sherlock will be resting between breakfast and lunch. I will tell you some stories about my little brother.”  
“Very well, Mr Holmes. I do look forward to that.” John was very curious.  
“So do I and the DI. See you on Saturday.” They hung up and John got lost in thoughts.


	4. Chapter Four

Saturday arrived and John was very excited. He had even dressed up a bit better than he usually would. He rode over to the manor to meet Sherlock’s brother and the DI for some serious talk. And Mycroft Holmes had been right. Sherlock had been so excited that he had fallen asleep outside after breakfast and Greg had to carry him upstairs without him waking up.  
They sat outside and there was coffee, too.  
“Your present was very thoughtful, Dr Watson.” Mycroft said smiling.  
“Sherlock was bloody excited. He talked about it the whole time and showed everyone the book, too.” Greg obviously was excited and happy, too.  
“I am glad to hear that. You know, he also asked for a fridge.” Mycroft pulled a face and Greg paled rubbing over his neck.  
“Dear God, way too soon …” He shook his head. John looked clueless.  
“What is it? Is it not good?” He wondered and Greg giggled looking at Mycroft.  
“God, just tell him, won’t you? I’ll get some cookies.” Mycroft stood and left. Greg adoringly looked at him.  
“Oh …” John thought and just had to smile.  
“So?” He said out loud making him look.  
“First of all, please call me Greg.” John smiled.  
“John.” They shook hands.  
“DI.” Greg suddenly said.  
“Captain.” John shot back. Both men grinned. And Greg told the tale of thumbs and heads in the fridge and eyeballs in the microwave. John was bloody fascinated.  
“You aren’t disgusted at all.” Suddenly Mycroft Holmes was back and stood right behind him. He was very sneaky. John looked up at him.  
“No, I am not. It’s interesting and not boring.” Mycroft Holmes smiled and Greg outright laughed.  
“I got his books for you. Have a look and see what he has done.” John chose one and scanned over the pages. Sherlock had a very neat handwriting and John’s eyes were glued to the pages.  
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Sherlock suddenly stumbled outside clad in his pyjama bottoms and a dressing-gown. His naked chest was obvious. His hair was a mess and John just loved it. He slowly stood.  
“You need your sleep, Sherlock. I won’t run away.” Sherlock’s eyes darted around wildly and finally settled on him.  
“John …” Then he just smiled. John smiled, too.  
“Don’t start without me.” He demanded and ran back upstairs.  
“He is so much better than before.” Greg said looking after him.  
“That’s absolutely correct.” Mycroft agreed and both men looked at John.  
“Actually, I am rather optimistic about his mental health. He remembers a lot of things.”  
“It never happened before.” Mycroft quietly said looking over his shoulder.  
“He did tons of therapy-hours for months on end. He never complained. It was so not him. But I am glad he recovered from the drooling mess he had been after waking up to today. I really am.” Greg added.  
“I had a look into his file. But I am sure there must be more. May I see those, too?” John asked.  
“Why not? You are good for him. Perhaps you can do more. I will gladly provide everything.” Mycroft seriously said .  
“Why are you helping him?” Greg asked directly.  
“I don’t want to lie. It’s the most interesting case, he is the most interesting patient, I ever had.” John tried to express what he meant. Greg smile.  
“You mean something else.” Greg said and made him blush.  
“He is the most interesting man I have ever met.” John admitted and Mycroft raised a brow.  
“This is most …” Mycroft didn’t know what it was and right then Sherlock returned. He wore a pair of denims and an old tee. He kept standing by John’s chair.  
“I would like to show you the room I have been given to build my laboratory. Please come with me.” John just stood and it made Greg smile.  
“One hour until lunch, Sherlock. Please don’t starve your doctor.” Mycroft said.  
“I won’t let him starve, Mycroft.” Sherlock almost sounded angry; an interesting and new-found emotion. Mycroft was very pleased.  
“Have fun!” Greg wished and they left.  
“Are you feeling well?” John asked while he followed him over the manor's ground-floor.  
“Yes, very much so. I looked through the book you gave me and tried to put something under the microscope. It’s wonderful! My brother also provided some old lab-stuff which sat in the basement.” They finally reached a room far away from any other used room. It was bright and had many windows and also a door leading outside. John saw a huge table and a chair as well as a white-board. There also was a big box with old stuff. John rubbed his hands.  
“Let’s see what we can do with this!” He knelt by the box and rummaged through the contents. Sherlock quickly followed him and knelt, too.  
“Look, a beaker and such. Here you go.” John took the things and handed them over to Sherlock who just took it.  
“It’s all very dusty.” Sherlock said and stood. There also was a sink and he started to wash everything. Soon John brought more and placed the dry ones on the lab-table. Sherlock stopped him after exactly 55 minutes.  
“Let’s go and have lunch. My brother doesn't like it when I don’t appear and eat.” John straightened up and his bones cracked.  
“And he would be right. You need to eat. So do I. I am very hungry.” And he rubbed over his stomach. Both men left the room and met Greg in the hall.  
“I decided we could eat outside. It’s nice and sunny. His Excellency though doesn’t like the idea.” Greg said.  
“My brother just needs a parasol and so do I. If you could arrange it, everything should be fine.” Sherlock said.  
“Well, he could have just said so.” Greg muttered carrying the bowl outside.  
“He doesn’t want to appear weak.” Sherlock quietly said. John just shook his head. Outside he tried to open the large parasol but he was too small to reach all the way up. Sherlock went under the fabric to help but managed to drop everything. John and Sherlock were stuck underneath and Greg took a picture. John giggled.  
“This is not funny, John.” Sherlock said grumpily and rattled the wood.  
“Yes, it is, very much so.” John answered when more of his body appeared. Right then Mycroft came outside with sun lotion and a hat. Now Greg giggled and took another picture.  
“Are you planning on blackmailing me, Detective Inspector?” He asked.  
“No, not at all. Just collecting.” Only then he stood and helped John and Sherlock. After a minute the parasol brought the much-needed shadow. John and Greg sat under the sun and enjoyed it.  
Greg had cooked some risotto and it was very tasty.  
“This is lovely, Greg. I like it.” John praised it and Greg smiled.  
“Thanks, John.” He looked at Mycroft who just ate and didn’t say anything.  
“He thinks so, too.” Sherlock said.  
“He shows by eating the food you bring him. He wouldn’t eat it, if he wouldn’t like it.” Mycroft glared at him but kept eating.  
“And you?” John asked Sherlock. Sherlock just ate the last bite and had another spoon full.  
“I love it. Greg used to cook it when I stayed with him.” He chewed on a bit of meat and everyone just stared at him. John looked at Mycroft and Greg and waited for a reaction. When none came, he asked:  
“Why did you stay with Greg?” Now Sherlock looked up and he pulled a face.  
“I don’t know. I just remembered that I did.” He sounded exhausted again.  
“You did stay with me for quite some time, Sherlock. You were very sick back then and I helped you. I showed you stuff and then you helped me a great deal.” Greg told him. The fork stuck between Sherlock’s lips while he looked into nothing. Everyone held his breath until he cast his eyes again and let go of the fork with a plop.  
“I only remember that it was good.” He sounded a bit frustrated.  
“It’s very good that you remember it at all, Sherlock. You need to be patient.” John calmly said but Sherlock just dropped his fork.  
“Patience sucks! Everybody moves around me as I am some sort of fragile piece of bone china! I have weird flashbacks of people, of voices, of places! And I don’t know what they mean!” He started to pant and John placed his palm on his hand.  
“It’s OK to be frustrated. Just go and let it out. Perhaps Mycroft and Greg can provide some pictures of people you used to know? Just tell me what you want to do. I will be here and help you with everything.” Their eyes met and Sherlock came down again.  
“I want to set up my lab. Then I want to walk. I also need to rest. We could sit on a bench outside if you like.” Sherlock stated his wishes but didn’t look at John.  
“That sounds just fine. Are you done then?” Sherlock just stood and left the table. John followed him looking at his brother and his mate. Mycroft nodded and John knew he would look for pictures and other things. Greg was already scanning through his mobile.

Sherlock was moving too quickly and John couldn’t keep up. He entered the lab after him and saw him staring at the things they had managed to set up. Then he just closed his eyes and stood very still. John didn’t disturb him.  
“I remember ashes. Cigarettes. Fibres. Tissue samples.” He only whispered the words. John showed him his book.  
“Mycroft gave it to me. These are some of your notes regarding your old experiments.” John held it out for him and he slowly reached out to take it. Then he sat down on the window-sill and went through it. John just let him and went through the box again. There was a Bunsen-burner, as well. Just for a moment he thought about what Mycroft had said about an explosion but he decided to trust him.  
“I think we have set up everything you could use. What would you like to do now? Try something? Examine something?” John asked curiously.  
“Now I would like to take a walk with you. Perhaps we could collect something outside? A dead animal?” John shrugged. He wasn’t squeamish.  
“Sounds good. But if you feel like you need a break, you will tell me, OK?” Sherlock nodded.  
“Yes, Captain John.” John gaped at him and Sherlock’s humorous expression left his face.  
“I am sorry, John. I meant it as a joke.” Now John smiled.  
“No, no! It’s all fine. I just didn’t expect it from you.” John quickly said and smiled up at him coming closer.  
“Oh, good. I am still not sure about what is appropriate and what’s not.” John kept smiling.  
“Just do what you like to do. I don’t mind.” He shrugged and Sherlock smiled again.  
“Then let’s go outside and sit somewhere quiet.” Sherlock expectantly looked at John.  
“Let’s then.” They left the manor and Sherlock led the way through the park. John was deeply impressed. This was the sort of place he had only visited with his school years ago or had read about in some magazines. But he had never stayed at a place as posh as this. It probably was heritage or whatever it was called.  
Suddenly Sherlock started to talk while they were walking. John stepped up closer to hear him better.  
“When I was brought here, I wasn’t able to walk properly. Mycroft pushed me around the premises in a wheel-chair. I hated it but it was better than staying in bed all day. I had no idea why I wasn’t able to walk. I had no idea at first who he was, who I was and why he was with me. We had no visitors. I had to learn a lot of things again from the beginning.” Sherlock sighed and kicked a stone.  
“My limbs were shaking and I could barely walk on my own. But I tried and someday it just worked out again. One day he showed me the stables and it felt like coming home. The horses helped me a lot and soon I was able to ride again. From that moment on it got better.” He looked at John.  
“Can you ride?” He asked and John scratched his head.  
“Not properly, no. But I have done some horse-back riding back in Afghanistan; without saddle or such, just a blanket and a harness. It was great running over the desert sand.” John beamed up at him and Sherlock liked the sight.  
“I can’t offer desert but I can offer a decent lawn and wood for you if you like? We could ride together?”  
“Perfect!” John didn’t say more and Sherlock didn’t need more. They walked in silence for a while.  
“So, what would you like to examine?” John asked after half an hour.  
“You.” Sherlock said seriously. John almost stumbled.  
“What?” He barely got it out and Sherlock smiled.  
“I mean, I would like to sit on the ground and talk to you.” Sherlock explained.  
“Oh, I see. Well, it’s OK, I guess? Let’s find a place.” Sherlock took his hand and pulled him along.  
“No need to look. I know a nice place. Come along, John.” Sherlock led the way onto a beautiful clearing with wild flowers and berries. There was also water close by, John could hear it.  
“This is nice …” John sighed. Sherlock didn’t let go of his hand and John didn’t mind at all. Sherlock walked some more and soon they sat by the water and Sherlock stuck his feet into the cold. He obviously liked it and wiggled his toes.  
“So, what would you like to talk about? Do you have any questions?” John asked.  
“I wondered if you got any? What are your plans? I am sure you have thought about my sickness and the healing process. You know I have listened to enough doctors who thought me too stupid or brain-damaged to understand a syllable of what they were babbling.” Sherlock sounded like a mix of being angry and sad and frustrated.  
“I will be honest to you. You deserve it. Your brother told me some things and so did Greg. I read your medical file. I also searched you on the internet and found your old site there. I don’t even know if you remember it.” John swallowed and looked at his fingers. He exhaled and kept going.  
“I firmly believe you have made fantastic progress. You are starting to remember a lot of things. You are also frustrated because you often don’t understand their meanings and reasons. I suggested looking at pictures of people you have met or worked with. Perhaps they kick lose something more. I am not experienced in working with people like you. But I like you a lot and I want you to return to your former life.” Sherlock just looked at him but John didn’t return his stare.  
“John, why won’t you look at me?” He finally asked. John sighed and looked up.  
“I feel a bit off. I believe you think me stupid. Or you maybe think I am using you as my personal case, an experiment.” Sherlock reached out and placed his large hand on John’s smaller ones.  
“You are stupid right now, John. I like you being here with me. I want to spend more time with you. You are giving me so much hope. I can’t really describe my feelings. But perhaps it’s enough for you.” John felt the warmth spreading through his body and he swallowed. He smiled up at him and relaxed.

They sat there for almost an hour and Sherlock dozed away now and again. He never let go of John though and John didn’t mind at all. It felt way too good.

***

Back in the manor they sorted through Sherlock’s new lab until he openly yawned. John stopped him.  
“Listen, Sherlock. Please rest until dinner. I promise to be here, if you want me to.” He suggested.  
“Of course, I want you to stay, John!” He sounded almost shocked.  
“Then go up and into your bed. You will find me downstairs for dinner.” They left the lab and Sherlock disappeared upstairs. John wondered where he was supposed to go and where he was allowed to move. He decided to find the terrace again but it was empty. There was a note on the table though written by Greg.

_“Feel free to use the library, kitchen and whatever you need. I went into the village with Mycroft. See you for dinner."  
Greg._

John felt good after having read it. He was welcome here. He had stumbled over the word _library_. He had a look and found it a wonderful place. He even found some old medical books and chose one. Right after he had settled into a comfy armchair a maid appeared by his side.  
“Would you like a drink, Sir?” She asked and John almost fell off the chair. He hadn’t noticed her at all.  
“Gods, you scared the …” He swallowed and blushed. She just smiled and waited. John cleared his throat.  
“Hm, yes, thanks for asking. I’d like a tea, please.” She nodded and disappeared as quietly as she had appeared. John leant back into the chair and shook his head. He read two more pages and the tea was brought. The milk was even warm. John liked this a lot and could get used to this. He waited with his sigh until she was gone. He really enjoyed his tea. There were even several cookies on a plate he hadn’t asked for at all.

After a few hours Greg entered the library. John looked at him and thought he looked well-shagged. He grinned and made him blush.  
“Hey, thanks for the note. It felt really nice to be welcome like that.” John said.  
“Well, yes, sure thing.” He cleared his throat and they locked eyes.  
“Much needed alone-time?” John asked and Greg just nodded. John smiled and envied him. Then he had thoughts about Sherlock holding his hand and felt the warmth creeping up again.  
“What were you up to?” Mycroft joined them and even poured drinks before the maid could come in and ask. John told him about the things he had done and talked about with Sherlock. He also noticed the way Mycroft looked. It was as immaculate as ever. Mycroft looked at him and slowly tilted his head.  
“You like my brother. And you like him perhaps a bit too much.” He seriously said. John again blushed.  
“I won’t deny that. I do like him. But I won’t ever harm or hurt him. I just could not do such a thing.” He answered.  
“What are you implying, Myc?” Greg asked almost shocked.  
“Would you like me to stand back a bit?” John asked but Mycroft shook his head.  
“No, not at all. You are good for him. He likes you and enjoys the time with you. He made so much progress since you have come over.”  
“I noticed that, too.” Greg added and sipped his drink with a thoughtful expression.  
“Did you collect some pictures he could look at?” Greg nodded.  
“Yes, I made a little collection and put it on a stick. Here you go. Let him look at it and try to note what comments he is giving.” Greg added.  
“Very good.” John took the stick and they kept sitting in silence for a while. He really enjoyed his time here.  
“Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes, Sir.” The maid had appeared again and spoke to Mycroft who just tilted his head in acknowledgement. Greg sighed shaking his head.  
“Would you mind waking him up, Dr Watson?” Mycroft asked and John nodded at once.  
“I don’t mind at all. If you could just point me to his room? I only have visited his new lab.” John asked and Greg stood.  
“Follow me. I’ll show you.” They disappeared together and Mycroft’s eyes followed Greg. He was really happy about the fact that Greg cared so much about Sherlock. Only now he was able to recognise how much better he was with him around. Not only that he cared for his younger sibling, he also loved him. That was something Mycroft couldn’t just get his hands on. Why would anyone love him?

“There we are. This is his room. Just enter, it will be all fine.” Greg said upstairs and winked at John who blushed but smiled. Greg disappeared downstairs and John knocked. There wasn’t an answer and he knocked a bit louder. Still no answer. John decided to open the door because both Greg and Mycroft thought it OK to do so.  
Carefully he opened the door and entered Sherlock’s room. It was tidy, very much so. Sherlock was still asleep on his side facing the door. His hands were fisted into the hem of his blanket and it was pulled up almost over his chin. Suddenly he realised that Sherlock was still sick. He looked small and pale beneath the blanket. John could also see his unruly hair and found it just adorable. He quietly sighed und moved up.  
“Sherlock?” He quietly said and gently touched his shoulder. Sherlock grunted but his lids fluttered. His hands came up and he rubbed his palms over his eyes which made him look very, very young.  
John swallowed but stayed close. Blurry eyes looked up at him and it took him a few seconds to recognise him.  
“John?” He roughly asked.  
“Yes, it’s me. I wanted to pick you up for dinner but you were still asleep. Would you like me to wait outside?” John asked but Sherlock was getting up already.  
“No, no, no. Please stay. I’ll be ready in a minute. Don’t go away. Sit.” He grabbed his wrist and pulled him down on his bed. John again blushed. Sherlock didn’t notice a thing. He slumped over into his bath only clad in boxers. John just stared at his nice behind. Then he quickly cast his eyes. And then he smiled.

What a beautiful man Sherlock Holmes was.

He listened to Sherlock rummaging in his bath. When he came back out, he was dressed but his hair still was a mess. John grinned.  
“What is it? Why are you laughing?” Sherlock gingerly touched his head and looked at him.  
“Your hair, it’s like after an explosion. I am sorry but it looks funny.” John kept smiling and suddenly Sherlock smiled, too.  
“You like me, don’t you?” He quietly asked. John looked at him with a serious expression.  
“Yes, I do. Very much so.” Then he shrugged and kept sitting on the bed. Sherlock moved up close.  
“I like you, too, John. You are a good man. I feel safe with you, protected.” He reached out for him and John gently took his hand.  
“Let’s have dinner now. Come on.” John stood and his joints cracked. Sherlock didn’t let go of his hand and John wondered if it was appropriate holding hands with a patient. But how damaged was he really? He wasn’t abusing him, was he? He started to sweat. Sherlock didn’t notice but pulled him along.

Greg and Mycroft were about to sit down when Sherlock entered the room and announced.  
“I like John and he likes me. He will take care of me meaning he needs to stay close. Here. With me.” He looked at Mycroft who just looked back. A voiceless conversation took place between the brothers. Greg was used to it but John wasn’t. He tried to look at Greg who made a soothing gesture.  
Sherlock was asking for his brother’s approval. Mycroft came around the table and hugged his little brother.  
“I am very happy for you.” He whispered into his ear. Then he looked at John.  
“Take good care of my baby-brother.” It was a non-spoken threat and John got the message. He thinly smiled up at Mycroft and just nodded.  
“I have all the intention to do just so. No one will ever harm him again, hurt him again. No one.” It was a promise and it warmed everyone’s heart.  
“I am hungry. Can we please eat now?” Sherlock said and plonked on his chair. John sat by his side and dinner was served. It was fantastic and John enjoyed every single bite. He noted again that Sherlock started to eat less and less. Did he hurt? Or was this returning to former behaviour? He needed to ask Greg. He should know.  
Sherlock picked into his food but didn’t eat much even though he had stated his hunger before. John looked at him and also gently nudged him.  
“Don’t you like it?” Sherlock looked at the food on his plate and finally placed the fork down.  
“No, it’s not that. I just can’t somehow. I feel stuffed already.” John thought he needed to eat because he was way too thin for his height.  
“Perhaps some dessert? Ice-cream?” John tried again but Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, thanks a lot but I don’t want any.” He sat back and waited for him to finish. John was worried but when he looked up, he saw the exchange of looks between his brother and Greg. And it was clearly a positive one.  
Sherlock didn’t notice the exchange. He was just waiting for John to finish his meal. But John really enjoyed it and took his time. When Sherlock started to tap his fingers on the table in a furious rhythm, he just placed his hand on Sherlock’s.  
“Please don’t? I am almost done.” Sherlock looked at him but didn’t reply. John let go and finished his meal.  
“Please?” Sherlock said and John nodded. They stood.  
“Myc, I will be in the lab, if it’s OK?” Mycroft nodded.  
“Go and do as you like. You will find me and Greg outside for a bit, if you need anything.”  
“Have fun!” Greg grinned and Sherlock just left the room. John followed him into the lab and closed the door.  
“What’s wrong with you?” He asked him the moment they were alone inside.  
“Nothing is wrong with me!” Sherlock became loud when turning around and John made a step back. He looked into his eyes and saw them wide and almost completely black. He also was sweaty and his hair clung to his head.  
“Come down, Sherlock. There is nothing to be upset about.” He breathed open-mouthed and stared at John for several long seconds. Then he plonked on a chair and buried his face into his palms.  
“I am so confused …” He roughly said pulling up his shoulders. John slowly stepped up and knelt by his side.  
“I understand that, I really do. You have to move slowly and don’t exaggerate. Now patience is needed and I know it isn’t easy. The flashbacks you are suffering from are a good sign. Do you believe me?” He ruffled his hair but looked up again.  
“Of course, I believe you.” John smiled and reached out for him.  
“Let me hold you.” He didn’t touch him though; he waited for Sherlock to decide. And Sherlock pulled him into his arms and held him for a few minutes. Then suddenly he pushed him back and stood.  
“You wanted to show me some pictures?” John swallowed but nodded.  
“Yes, you are right. Where is your tablet?” Sherlock got it and they sat at the table. John also got his notes.  
“OK, please look at the picture and tell me what you see and what you think. Quickly, don’t think too much. Go for it.” Sherlock looked at John.  
“That’s like a bloody Rorschach, isn’t it?” John smiled.  
“Sort of, yes. And see, you know stuff.” Both men smiled and Sherlock leant forward looking at the screen. John clicked the first picture.  
“Low IQ. Moron.” The picture showed a man clad in a forensic gear on a crime scene. John raised a brow but noted what Sherlock had said.  
“Wrong lipstick. Dead people.” Now it was a mousy woman.  
“Weakness.” A thin man with glasses.  
“Mad.” A small man with black hair and manic eyes.  
“The woman.” A beautiful woman holding a riding-crop.  
John didn’t question anything but wrote down the words Sherlock said. Then he stopped.  
“Would you like something to drink?” John asked. Sherlock sighed.  
“Yes, I’d like that. Could you get us something?” Sherlock replied and John stood.  
“Sure. Just wait a minute. I’ll be right back.” John thoughtfully walked along the hallway and entered the kitchen without thinking about looking or even ringing for a maid. And of course, he bumped right into some people working here. People he had never even seen before. He cleared his throat.  
“Excuse me; I just wanted some juice and water for Sherlock and myself. Could you …” He was ushered outside and promised a quick delivery. He sighed. He didn’t like this and he wouldn’t get used to it. Slowly he walked back to the lab. He was able to hear music from the library and wondered what Greg and Mycroft were up to.  
“Did they throw you out?” Sherlock asked mocking him a bit.  
“Yes, they did. They are bringing it right away.” John sat down again still shaking his head.  
“You don’t feel right about it, do you?” Sherlock asked.  
“No, I really don’t. It doesn’t feel right to me. I am not used to being served all day long. I never experienced such a thing.”  
“But you were a commanding officer, so people did what you told them. That’s nothing different.” Their eyes met.  
“I haven’t looked at it that way. It’s very pragmatic.” Sherlock just shrugged. Then their drinks were served. Soon after they sat in front of the tablet again and looked at another set of pictures.  
“Stick.” There was a pool.  
“Chinese circus.” It was a lucky cat.  
“Eurus.” He paled terribly and it was a violin. John stopped it and pulled him closer. Sherlock started to cry. John still tried to soothe him when it knocked on the door.  
“Yes!” He called out and Mycroft opened the door. At once he hurried up to his brother when he saw him crying.  
“Hey, little one. What happened? What did you see?” He let go of John and turned to Mycroft who held him close.  
“Our sister. It was horrible, wasn’t it? She hurt them, us. I hurt her, the woman of the dead. But it’s still very foggy.” He kept sobbing for a bit and John stood to get a cold cloth. He wondered what had happened. He was very worried by now.  
He met Mycroft’s eyes over Sherlock’s shoulder. He held the cloth up for Mycroft who took it from him. John just sat down again and kept looking at the brothers.  
Mycroft quietly talked to his brother and finally made him sit. He held the cloth to his eyes and Sherlock just let him.  
“I am fine. It’s OK again. Thank you, Myc.” Then he looked at John and then back to his brother.  
“Can we stop doing this now, please? It’s a bit too much.” He sounded defeated and sad. John didn’t like it at all.  
“You should have said something earlier, love.” Sherlock looked up. Mycroft looked up, too. But none said anything. John didn’t notice; he only was worried.  
“Anyway, I suggest a downer outside? Some relaxing talk? What do you think, brother-mine?” Mycroft asked.  
“Sounds good to me. And you know what? I would like to have a malt. Lagavulin. No ice.” He stood. John gaped.  
“Or do you think it clashes with my meds too hard?” Sherlock asked looking at John. He thought about it for a moment.  
“No, well, of course it clashes but one should be fine.” Sherlock looked pleased and they all left for the terrace.  
Mycroft got Greg on their way who poured drinks for everyone. Sherlock carefully sipped his while looking at Greg. John saw he was thinking about their relationship.  
“Thanks, mate.” John told Greg when being handed his drink. He licked his lips. He could never afford this. Somehow, he enjoyed his stay. Plus, he had found Sherlock. A smile appeared on his face and he looked over the rim of his glass. Their eyes met and Sherlock returned the smile.  
Greg watched Sherlock looking at John. Mycroft watched Greg looking at Sherlock. John looked into his glass and was just happy.  
“You shouldn’t exaggerate, Sherlock.” Greg suddenly said. Sherlock looked up.  
“I know. But it felt good being busy. It also felt good that there were so many pictures popping up. I didn’t want it to stop.”  
“You are making very good progress. Don’t spoil it and cause a nervous breakdown, OK?” John seriously said.  
“No, I won’t. I promise.” Sherlock answered.  
“Take your time as I have told you before.” Mycroft added. Sherlock glared at him.  
“You know as his brother it won’t work, Mycroft?” Greg smiled at him. Mycroft just sipped his drink.  
“He is perfectly fine. He was stressed but we stopped right on time. Nothing happened. He needs to learn how to recognise the symptoms. And he did already.” John said.  
“And HE is right here. He is also leaving the table now because he is being talked about when being present. He doesn’t like that. Good night.” Sherlock slammed the glass down and stood. The chair scratched over the stones and almost fell over. Then he glared at them and turned around. John looked at his back and he felt sad.  
“Give him some time and follow him.” Greg said.  
“But he seems to be angry? Perhaps it’s better to leave him alone?” Mycroft wondered.  
“No, I’ll go after him. I have just treated him like a child. And he isn’t. It’s his good right to be pissed right now.” He sighed and downed his drink. He cleared his throat and followed Sherlock. Upstairs he knocked on his door.  
“It’s me, John.” From the inside he heard a snorting sound.  
“Go away!” Sherlock then added.  
“Please don’t do that. I am sorry.” Now he heard steps coming up.  
“Forgive me, please?” John added. Sherlock slowly opened the door and peeked outside.  
“You owe me.” He seriously said opening the door wider.  
“Yes, I do. Whatever you want.” Sherlock looked smug and John had a weird feeling.  
“Come in.” Sherlock opened the door and turned away from him. John followed him inside and closed the door. It was rather dark in his room because he had closed the curtains and only the small light on his nightstand was on.  
“Are you doing fine, Sherlock?” John asked coming closer. Sherlock nodded but didn’t come closer.  
“Please talk to me?” Very carefully John reached out and touched his arm. He felt him tense and let go again. He tried to see his face and found he had been crying. But he didn’t push him. Instead he sat down and talked to him.  
“I am really sorry, Sherlock. I didn’t mean to belittle you. Please don’t think something wrong or bad about me.”  
“I am hurt.” Sherlock admitted finally.  
“It’s understandable. I didn’t think.”  
“No, you really didn’t.” John sighed and stood.  
“Can I do anything right now?” Sherlock slowly shook his head.  
“No, not really. I need to be alone. But I would like to continue or lab-work tomorrow.”  
“I will be back after breakfast then. Good night.” He looked at him and hoped to get a hug but nothing happened.  
“Good night, John. Please close the door behind you.” Sherlock walked into his bath. John swallowed. Then he left and closed the door.  
He met Mycroft and Greg right by the stairs. They were waiting for him.  
“So?” Mycroft asked.  
“He didn’t want me to stay but asked me to come back tomorrow.” John shrugged.  
“He was hurt, I could see it.” Greg said. John nodded.  
“He overreacted. Plus, he is still sick and not his former self.” Mycroft said.  
“Yes, but this was almost like old times.” Greg replied. John wondered what kind of man he had been before he got shot and drowned.  
“Let’s just leave him be for tonight. Perhaps it was just a bit too much and he needs some alone time. I will have an eye on the lab though.” Mycroft replied.  
“Will you check on him during the night?” John asked.  
“No, he has cameras.” Greg said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. John raised a brow.  
“It’s for Sherlock’s safety only.”  
“I am not criticising you, Mycroft. It might be for the best.” John said. Greg yawned.  
“God, please forgive me but I will go to bed now. See you tomorrow, John.” He waved goodbye and left.  
“Yes, I will leave, too. I will be back tomorrow between breakfast and lunch. Perhaps I need some rest, too.”  
“Don’t give it too much thought, John. He will be fine. I will check on him now and see he takes his meds. Good night.” They shook hands and John rode home.

***

Sherlock never spoke about the incident again. John didn’t want to bring it up. Greg and Mycroft just let them and didn’t comment at all.  
The only thing that mattered to John was Sherlock’s happy face when he came back the following day.


	5. Chapter Five

Sherlock made good progress until the day he searched the net. He knew it was a bit weird to google himself but he also knew that his family and John were holding back facts. And he just needed to know.  
That’s why it didn’t take too much time until he tumbled over James Moriarty. By now his mind was able to resist the masses of things he suddenly remembered. He only felt a bit dizzy and quickly shook his head. Then he slowly started to read. When he was done, John came back for some lab-work.  
“Have you seen Greg or my brother?” He asked without any greetings. John shook his head.  
“No, I haven’t. Why? Can’t I help?” John asked coming closer.  
“Perhaps? Did they tell you anything about Moriarty?” Sherlock asked closing his tablet.  
“No, not really. I have read something about him in the papers and Mycroft said he can’t tell. Greg told me a little bit more and it was enough for me.” Sherlock hummed.  
“He is quite mad, isn’t he?” Sherlock murmured.  
“He is dead, isn’t he?” John wondered making Sherlock look up.  
“I am so not sure about that after the incident with Eurus. Perhaps they had a wicked plan, these two.” He slowly shook his head. John needed to know more about Sherlock’s sister but the last time Sherlock had cried a lot and wouldn’t talk about it. And what Greg told him was a bit confusing. Mycroft didn’t tell him anything.  
“Let’s not talk about wicked things, Sherlock. Why don’t we go and take two horses?” That suggestion made Sherlock look up. He looked very surprised.  
“That’s actually nice. We can do that, absolutely.” And he smiled standing up already.  
“Let’s go then.” John said and opened the door. They went into the stables and Sherlock picked his horse. He let John do the same and soon they were on their way through the trees. They looked at each other and Sherlock smiled. He rode up close to John and touched him for the first time in days.  
“I feel so much better. I am sorry if I hurt you.” But John shook his head.  
“It’s all fine. I understand and you didn’t hurt me. I am a doctor and you don’t need to feel guilty. Now we are having a good time and when I see you smile; I feel perfectly happy.” Sherlock reached out for him and John got very close. Sherlock carefully caressed his face.  
“I don’t know what I would do without you.” He only whispered the words.  
“Probably burn the lab down, love.” John grinned and Sherlock started to giggle. Then John kissed his hand and knuckles.  
“I am glad you feel better, love.” Sherlock still looked happy.  
“I am sorry for being so grumpy.” Suddenly he pulled John close and held him tight. John had his hands full of horse and Sherlock who just kissed him. John was breathless when Sherlock whispered into his ear.  
“I remembered some things back from university.” John swallowed.  
“You will soon remember a lot more, I am sure.” They held each other tight and enjoyed it. But suddenly John wondered. Sherlock looked at him.  
“He doesn’t have surveillance in the woods, John, only inside the manor and by the gate. So don’t worry.” John furiously blushed. Sherlock giggled.  
They rode over the fields for about two hours and were both exhausted when coming back. John pulled at his shirt.  
“I need to go home and change. I will be back soon.” But Sherlock held him back.  
“I am sure Greg will happily borrow you a shirt. Please stay.” John looked up.  
“But I am smelly!” Sherlock still held him.  
“So am I. We should change that together, shouldn’t we?” And he pulled him inside. John needed a minute to understand but when he got pulled into Sherlock’s bath, he stopped him.  
“Sherlock, stop it.” Sherlock looked irritated and he clearly didn’t understand.  
“Why?” He sounded a bit stroppy already. John took his hand.  
“It’s not right. I possibly can’t. Don’t you see?” Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, I don’t.” They stared into each other’s eyes.  
“I am your doctor, Sherlock.” John spoke calmly.  
“Yes, I know that, John.”  
“You are not healthy.” John added. Sherlock swallowed.  
“John, you are not abusing me. I am not on strong meds. I could stop you, if I wanted. But I don’t want to stop you, I really don’t. I want you.” Sherlock pulled him closer again.  
“But it doesn’t feel right.” John mumbled against Sherlock’s chest.  
"You have just been kissing me. Why hold back now?" Sherlock kept touching him. John had no answer. Sherlock smiled.  
“Get over it.” Sherlock whispered and kissed him. John closed his eyes and gave in.  
Soon enough they were naked and groping their bodies. The water ran over their naked skin and it felt so good. Sherlock was hard as a rock and he was panting and so was John.  
And Sherlock wasn’t shy at all. He took John’s cock and stroked it. John almost made a wanton noise but could suppress it. Sherlock grinned.  
“Oh, I like this. You are embarrassed. But why?” And he kept stroking.  
“Sherlock, what …” John was flushed and desperately wanted to come. He stared at Sherlock’s body and imagined riding him. Then he just came. He surprised Sherlock, that much was clear. But both men laughed being a bit out of breath.  
“God, you impossible man!” John whispered and kissed him. He pressed against him and Sherlock came, too. Then he held on to John.  
“This was amazing. You are amazing. I really liked this. Please don’t blame yourself.” John smiled.  
“Well, I was. But I feel so good now. What you gave me …” He shook his head and Sherlock kissed him again.  
“Shut up, John. I know. And now that we are clean, we can get dressed and continue experimenting.” John was still only clad in his birthday-suit. He sat on Sherlock’s bed and watched him getting dressed.  
“Why aren’t you dressed, John?” Sherlock asked and John grinned.  
“You have to get me some clothes. You need to ask Greg. Until then I can’t go anywhere. Mine are dirty and smelly.”  
“Oh …” Sherlock looked at John and then at the pile of things on the hardwood. Then he nodded.  
“I’ll be right back.” And he dashed outside leaving John behind.

***

Soon enough they were back in the lab experimenting. Sherlock had just entered Greg’s room and taken a pair of track-pants and a t-shirt. There was no one to ask.  
So, it was a bit weird when John met Greg outside on the terrace.  
“You are wearing my stuff.” John again blushed. Then he looked at Sherlock.  
“His were dirty and he needed fresh clothes after our shower. You weren’t in and I supposed you wouldn’t mind.”  
“You hoped I wouldn’t mind.” But Greg grinned saying it.   
John really enjoyed these talks. He liked Greg and he even liked Mycroft. He was in love with Sherlock though. He looked thoughtful because his weeks of work were almost over. He only had been filling in for an old friend and he had to go back to London.  
But he didn’t want to leave Sherlock. It was a disaster.  
“You are worried about something.” Suddenly Sherlock’s face was close and John tensed.  
“I am. You are right. I can’t keep anything from you.” John quietly replied.  
“You may stop worrying. I have the solution for you.” Mycroft looked extremely pleased and John just raised a brow. He knew by now that Mycroft loved to interfere, that he had power and money. He didn’t actually know what to expect now.  
“Tell him, Myc.” Greg just said.   
“I know, your time of filling-in for your friend is almost over. You were just helping out, as I have been told at our first meeting after Sherlock had been falling down the stairs. Now the situation has changed. I believe you don’t want to leave without my brother. But you surely have to go back to work. So, if you could cut-down your working-time I could send Sherlock back to London, back into his flat at 221B Baker Street. You will move in with him so he won’t be alone during his recovery-time. And I firmly believe it won’t take long until he is back on the streets, detecting again.” John simply stared at Mycroft.  
“Don’t you like his plan?” Greg asked.  
“We both made this plan.” Mycroft said.  
“Baker Street? I can’t afford a place there.” John murmured. Mycroft ignored the statement.  
“It’s a flatshare. You would even have your own bedroom.” He just kept talking.  
“Why would he need his own bedroom?” Then there was Sherlock.  
“By the way, I like your plan. Let’s do it. John?” Sherlock looked at John who slowly lifted his head.  
“Why wasn’t I asked? Perhaps I want to live somewhere else? Perhaps I don’t want to cut my working-hours? Perhaps I wanted to go back to Afghanistan or Iraq?” He stood and walked away.  
Sherlock was speechless and looked at his older brother for help but Mycroft was absolutely clueless. His plan had been the perfect solution. Why did John deny him?  
“Oh, never mind you two. I’ll talk to him.” Greg stood and followed John.

***

“John, wait. Listen to me, please.” Greg jogged after John who looked back over his shoulder.  
“Greg, I appreciate you trying to help but this is insane. He can’t just change my life like this.” John shook his head and they started to walk together.  
“Yes, he can. He thinks he can because he always does. And he loves his brother. His brother loves you. He is much better and actually I want him back on my crime-scenes, as well. Why don’t you give it a try?” Greg asked.  
“Greg, I can’t simply give it a try. Because if it doesn’t work, Sherlock might not recover again. And whose fault would it be? It’s much too early for him to go back to London, back to his work. He needs more time to get used to everything again.  
“He can do that back in London.” Greg said.  
“He could do that back in London if he weren’t alone in said flat. I can’t be with him all the time, Greg. I have to work.” John insisted.   
“Then I will take him along. Let him read old case-files in my office, bring him back to crime-scenes.”  
“You have to do a briefing for your people, mainly the ones who don’t like him. If they behave weird around him, say nasty things behind his back, he won’t be able to cope with it. The responsibility is big, Greg.”  
“It’s for Sherlock. And I owe him so much more.” Greg said nothing more and John didn’t ask.  
“I do love Sherlock. And of course, I would move in with him. But what about you and Mycroft?”  
“Oh, he just moved into this manor because of Sherlock. He can move back into London any day. He has a town-house.”  
“And what about Sherlock? I believe he is not the man who can be directed?” Greg laughed.  
“No, not at all. But he will understand why he has to follow the rules at the beginning.” They slowly changed directions and walked back towards the house.  
Sherlock still stood outside and looked for them. He waited for John to approach while Greg disappeared inside looking for Mycroft.  
“Let’s sit.” John said but he shook his head.  
“I don’t want to sit. I want to hear your decision.” He bit his lips and John gently placed his finger on them to make him stop.  
“We will go back to London. Together. We will live in your flat. Together. And if you behave too madly, that’s what the second bedroom is for.” John smiled and slowly Sherlock did, too.


End file.
